Live Dissection
by IwakuraLame
Summary: Italy gets kidnapped. Warning for guro/snuff. Written in first person. Don't read if you're not into that sort of thing.


**I wrote this in 2016. Majorly edited to fit the site's guidelines and was originally in second person. Warning for guro. Small mention of vomit and pee.**

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Italy is tied up on the floor in front of me, face down and the back of his auburn hair stained with blood from where I had hit him on the back of the head a few times.

I kick him hard in the stomach and Italy's eyes slowly open, looking slowly around the room before panic becomes visible on his face at being tied up and gagged, hands and feet bound behind his back, but that doesn't put me off.

Time to get down to business.

Italy is struggling in the ropes now, and crying a little , but it's about to get a whole lot worse for him. I bring out a knife, and sit on top of his stomach, undoing his pants with both hands while holding the knife in my teeth. I remove his blue military jacket and shirt as he fruitlessly tries to struggle against me. Italy probably thinks he's about to be raped; the thought of which makes me feel a rush of excitement and arousal.

I place the knife over Italy's stomach and he struggles like a fish out of water to try and escape, even more panicked than before. His struggling stops though, as I plunge the knife into his stomach, skewering him just below the bellybutton. Italy's eyes go wide and he lets out a muffled scream, and he continues to whimper as I continue to drag the knife. I place a hand on his chest, holding him down as I forcefully drag the knife up, tearing through layers of skin and organs as though I was filleting a fish. The knife snags as I cut straight through Italy's bellybutton, but it meets little resistance the rest of the way through. I continue to split him open until I reach just below his ribcage, making him sputter and gag as i brutally rip through his diaphragm with the blade.

Italy is loosing a lot of blood now and staring blankly at the celing, eyes wide in terror. His legs shake, and he gasps and moans through the gag in pain. I grab either side of the vertical gash, and pull it apart with my bare hands, widening it and making Italy's, hot, still moving insides visible. There is no sound made as I tear it apart, as the sinew splits like fabric being torn in two, except Italy's muffled cries of pain and terror.

My hands act as surgeon's clamps as I stick my hand inside the hole I've made in him, reaching in and grabbing Italy's intestines while he twitches in shock. Italy screams and cries, tears streaming down his face and eyes as wide as saucers as I give a little tug. As I grasp and squeeze the slimy organ with my hand, Italy gags, probably vomiting under the tape. He throws his head back in an attempt not choke, and more tears prick his eyes.

The cowardly nation's body jerks as I continue to pull them out of him. Italy, in absolute agony, can only hope for death as I continue to pull, like unwinding cotton from a spool, blood pouring out of his exposed abdomen and pooling on the floor around him. His formerly blue uniform is now stained brown with blood, pants stained dark as Italy pisses himself, loosing control of his bladder out of a mix of pain and fear.

I glance down at Italy, who seems to be in shock. His expression is blank and his legs shake slightly with each laboured breath. It is said that the average person has six meters of small intestine inside them - at least half of which I am holding in my blood soaked hands.

Judging by the amount of blood, it seems that Italy does not have much time left. I peel of the tape, and even though in shock, Italy manages to spit out the bloody vomit mixture onto the floor, shuddering as he makes a final attempt to save himself.

"_p...please..._" Italy manages to stutter out, barley more than a whisper. Blood drips from his mouth as he talks and the look of terror on his face has not dissapated, but he looks slightly more sad than before. Probably because he's begging for his life.

With a swift motion, I raise the knife. Italy's breath hitches in his throat as he sees it in the air above him, as of he's about to gasp in shock. The knife slams into his chest, stabbing through the strong tissue of the heart. Death comes quickly, he doesn't even have a chance to release the breath still caught in his throat, nor the time to scream.

Wasting no time, I stick my hand back into his stomach to finish the job with his intestines. I pull and pull until there is nothing left inside but a hollow cavity. As they fall on the floor in a pile next to Italy's body, they make a ploping sound not unlike the sound of wet meat hitting a counter.

Next, I move onto whatever other organs I can see. From the top down, almost all are visible, the kidneys, liver and stomach are all there, which makes removing them easier. As I remove each one, and place them on the floor next to me, I notice now much blood each one is covered in - a stark contrast to Italy's pale, unmoving face.

After placing each soft, warm organ onto a piece of clear plastic, I wrap them up and insert each one into an individual cardboard box. Italy's body will follow, but better to take care of the more messy parts first. A body will stop bleeding once it's dead, but organs can leak and ruin it's container, especially since it's made from cardboard.

The dumping of the body can wait until after I mail these packages. Doesn't Italy have a brother? What's his name... Romano? I wish I could see the look on his face when these packages reach their destination...


End file.
